


Jewel

by MotherMagdalene



Category: Donald Pierce - Fandom, Old Man Logan, Wolverine and the X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Adult Content, Adult relationship, F/M, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Romance, Trauma, mentions of medical procedures, sex scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-13 23:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16028024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherMagdalene/pseuds/MotherMagdalene
Summary: A mutant finds herself trying to survive in a world she does not understand, making unexpected choices and finding allies in surprising places.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first piece of writing I have ever shared, please be kind.

She had managed to drive herself to a rundown motel just off the highway. It was quiet and isolated, the heat from the desert was playing tricks with her mind, causing memories and reality to meld, she did not trust herself to drive any further.

Booking herself a room she specifically requested one at the end of the building, being sure the room next to her was vacant. She would hate to involve a stranger in what was to come and she knew he would eventually come.

After driving as long as she has a bath and clean clothes is all she cares for, all she can focus on, she is craving the sensation of the water, craving its virtue and its ability to purify. Exhausted and aching she is starting to disconnect, starting to dance between this reality and the next without choice, she is truly losing control.  
Entering the room she dumps her bag unceremoniously, hunts for a power source and puts her phone on charge. Taking a clean change of clothes from her bag she moves to explore the bathroom, it is simple but usable. 

The ring of scum around the edge of the bath does not pacify her desires, the discoloration from years of use does not affect her need, her need to submerge, and it’s overwhelming, all consuming. She knows it will bring her at least a moment of relief, a moment of peace and indifference, he taught her that.  
Turning the tired metal taps one by one the water begins to slowly run, at first with a splutter then a steady, sure stream. Sitting on the edge of the bath she takes a moment to run her hand under the free flowing liquid, acknowledging and silently thanking it for the connection they are about to make, then as gracefully as her shaking hands will allow, she disrobes and slides in.

The water is stirring above her ankles as she sits hugging her knees to her chest, enjoying the sensation of the hot water slowing building up and embracing her body. The rhythmic sound of the water running, drowns out all others, she cannot wait to submerge and silence it all. Relaxing her scarred, sore, frail body she slides down, bending her knees, allowing her head and shoulders to be swallowed by the water. It’s a little too hot, the sensation forcing her to focus on heat, the flush she can feel growing on her skin, just the way she wanted it.

It’s quieter here under the water, calmer, she can trust herself, trust the water, it has become a confidant and protector. It has its own energy, its own will, allows her to relinquish discipline and relax. She feels protected, safe and secure. Her long dark hair is moving of its own will, creating swirls, dancing around her head and momentarily blocking her vision.

The relief does not last long. The pain returns and becomes a distraction she cannot ignore once again, it is changing, ever augmenting and constantly moving throughout her body. It’s starting to take her breath away and demanding attention.

She slowly sits up from her reprieve, hands griping each side of the bath, hair cascading down her back, the sudden change in temperature causes her to shiver. She refuses to be found like this, naked, alone in a freezing bath. How many hours, days would it take for her to be finally discovered, a shell of flesh, as she, who she truly is, finally freed from this consciousness?

Slowly standing not to risk her pounding head from also spinning, her vision is blurring, limbs refuse to obey her commands. She dresses in clean under ware and a T-shirt, no time for the rest, her modesty abandoned many months before.

Her legs are beginning to protest and she slides down the cold, grim cover tiles to the floor, taking some measured breaths contemplating her next move, she needs to get to her phone. Crawling toward the doorway, the transition from frigid tile to sticky carpet under her hands and knees advise her she is close. Her breathing is labored, a small involuntary cry falls from her mouth from the pain, and she cannot wait any longer. She must finally do what she has been trying to avoid, she must finally reach out to him and put her vulnerability on display once again.

Reaching for the phone she falls slightly, her shoulder against the side of the bed, butt on the floor. Her threshold for pain is greater than most but this, what she is feeling, she knows it is trying to claim her life.

With a sigh she dials the number, it’s a number she has never called but knows by heart. Her vision is spotty and a chill runs over her flesh, beads of sweat form around her temple as she slowly lays completely on the floor. She is trying to relax, trying to calm her heart, trying not to expose her fear and distress in her voice. Each ring and momentary silence is only adding to her already unbalanced state.

“Pierce” an agitated, southern accent hollers over heavy music and a roaring engine. Another layer of sweat breaks out on her skin, runs down her back, stings her eyes, fire burns in her bones. It’s been months since she has heard that voice, almost three to be exact.

When she left it was not planned, it was a split second decision, a flash, an instinct, a gift from the universe and she willingly took it. If she had allowed herself a moment of reflection, to focus, to truly contemplate the effect of her actions she would have never done it. All the possible outcomes would have attacked her mind, render her immobile, overwhelmed her and the moment would have passed her by.

“I’m dying” two soft spoken words is all it takes to have his complete attention, the music suddenly gone, only the purr of the engine remains. “How long?” He demands, his voice on edge, laced with concern. “A few hours” she responds “I know your close by” she tells him in almost a whisper. “Ok Baby” he is smiling, excited, energized. She can hear it in his voice. She is giving herself willingly, reaching out to him, she needs him once again.

“Show me” he requests, some urgency in his voice. In a last great effort she stares up at the yellowing popcorn ceiling, she imagines his stern face, his toned body, his unique scent, three deep breaths and then, moves inside him. 

Turning her head to the peeling patterned wallpaper, the worn thread bare red carpet she lays on, she lets him see through her eyes. Then allows him snapshots of her memories, the door with her room number, the borrowed car she drove parked outside, the motel, the highway, the sign she saw 8 miles away. She places all these pieces in his mind and then lets him go.

Sometime passes, she can hear him trying to catch his breath. She knows she gave him more than she ever had before, it will take him some moments to put the pieces together, to recover from the aggressive intrusion. “I got you” he finally states trying not to startle a sleeping wild animal, trying to hide the pleasure in his voice before the sound of screeching tires can be heard.

She has done all she can and hangs up the phone. It’s calm for a moment, she could perhaps let go now, he is, on his way. But her desire to live is to strong, her need to survive, she does not believe it is her choice, if she is meant to suffer then she will, she believes everything happens for a reason. She will suffer at the hands of monsters if that’s what she is to do.

That place, that place of nightmares she escaped from, escaped from his hands, she was the first and only to do it. She is respected and required but will most likely punished. The return of the disobedient child.

When she suddenly disappeared she made a grave miscalculation, miscalculated her need for Dr. Rice and his potions, his methods. While he always pushed too hard, took too much, she would gain a little in return, it was their special little dance. He helped her keep composure, taught her control, the teacher’s pet. She had become complacent, grown to rely too much on others, now she was more powerful and also more combustible.

Her brain is misfiring, sending the wrong messages to her body. Organs failing, receiving the wrong information, turning against her. Too much noise, too much confusion, nowhere to fall. She is dancing between this dimension and the next, fighting the urge to let go. How easy it would be to leave this physical world and be embraced by the light.

A familiar rumble brings her back and then the sound of the door cautiously opening. Boots on the carpet, and then a familiar body cautiously emerging from around the bed. “Hey Baby” he says in a comforting, playful, familiar tone, his imposing frame looming over her. He crouches down next to her, taking in her shivering frame and glistening skin. He knows how strong she is being, knows how much she is suffering. She smells his scent, dust, cigarettes, sweat, leather and oil. Its familiar and she hates how welcoming it is, how much she missed it.

His cool metal hand is a welcome relief as he brushes the hair from her face and inspects her more closely, he is looking for anything new, any sign she has suffered at the hands of another while out of his sight. He runs his hand gently down her neck, shoulder, her arm and to her hand, takes pride in the goosebumps he has created. He takes the phone she still clenches, places it in his pocket, she blinks taking in the sight of his heavy boots then turns to look into his face, he can’t help but smile, gold tooth caught by the light.

Lifting her from the floor, she fits seamlessly into his bulky arms, they have done this before. She has a perfect view of his skull tattoo before he places her on the bed, sure to rest her head lightly on the pillow, as she molds into the comforter. A sigh of relief escapes her, her arms falling from his neck, running down his shoulders before resting beside her.  
Another large man stands in the open doorway, filling up the space, a weapon in his hands. A warm dusk breeze rolls off the desert and enters the room, she fills her lungs with it and awakens her senses a little.

A small sting draws her attention, she looks at him with a question in her eyes. An IV has been placed in her arm. “Your dehydrated” he answers absently stroking her arm, a simple, familiar act of compassion. He checks her vitals as best he can, pulse, temperature and reflexes.

He is so grateful he didn’t lose her although right now he won’t admit it. Right now he is furious, hurt. She held his attention unlike any other under his control. He was always watching her and her quiet ways. Always looking for signs of distress. She had behaved, not caused a fuss, never asked for anything. She did not want a fight. But she was strong, sure and resilient those things catch his attention and he sees them in her still.

Soon he is on the phone explaining the situation to another, his flesh hand still stroking her arm, circling the pulse point of her wrist. His face and shoulders are turned from her, he does not want to risk losing his composure, showing his relief. She is in his hands again.

He is talking though the speaker now, while running the phone down her fragile frame. She can hear Dr. Rice’s voice, giving orders, demanding more accurate information. He wants her home immediately for proper treatment and care. The jet will be sent, only the best for her.

The Jewel will be returning to the crown.


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story started as a one shot but continued to grow, Part I became the finale in a way, it will all hopefully make sense in the end. Thanks for reading.

She was just like anyone else, almost. She went to school, college, had a loving family, fell in love with a quaint small town and made herself a happy minimalist life. She was one of the lucky few, what made her different was not obvious, it was buried deep inside her, it was a fluid part of her, it did not demand attention. She fell through the cracks, lived under the radar, undetected and unassuming.

That was until the incident, some tourist passing through, too drunk, too rowdy, she put up a fight, but fell hard. The local hospital was not equipped to deal with such a serve head injury, she was transferred to the closest big city. A few minor test was all it took to revel the truth, to get a peek at what was hiding inside her. They were called, nothing personal just protocol. It’s just the way these things are dealt with after so many unfortunate occurrences, all precautions are taken. Within an hour she was being transported to Mexico City, her unconscious body being guarded like the queens jewels.

The first few days after she gained consciousness she did not ask any questions, too tired and just happy to be taken care of. The nurses didn’t say much just took blood, vitals nothing unusual. Days turned into a week then new tests started, bone and CT scans, EEG, PET, MRI and lumbar punctures. Not uncommon for someone with a serious head injury but the lack of communication was unnerving. She was simply moved around from one place to another, the halls eerily quiet and abandon. The nurses would not address her directly, answer any of her basic question about her care, the lack of visitors or windows for that matter. She was not sure how long it was since she saw the sun. Who was paying for all these treatments? Not me she thought, I have nothing to offer.

She had started to grow restless, as she healed and gained the strength and balance back in her legs. She wanted to move, breathe some fresh air. She had lost track of time and her patience for that matter.

Donald Pierce was spending the evening in his office, watching his wall of monitors like his own private reality show. All under control, all as it should be. He spots her in one of the pixelated squares. His latest acquisition that was put directly in his hands, Dr Rice was pleased.

The green zone, that’s where they put her, minimum security, she was currently deemed harmless. He watches her as he sips his coffee, watches as she paces in her room, bangs on the door, pulls on the handle, stares directly into the camera. Her dark hair wild and unkempt, a stark contrast to the white hospital uniform she was changed into. There is no need for her to become so agitated, not after the world class treatment she has just received, perhaps he will pay her a visit, introduce himself, and explain his role in her life. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

He struts through the corridors like he owns the place, and in a way he does. The compliance and obedience, it’s all because of him, because of him and his dominance. He’s rarely in this section, there is no need to be, it’s all rainbows and unicorns as far as he is concerned. The nurses avert their eyes as he passes, the security stand a little taller. Suddenly everyone is on edge assuming he is there to reprimand and discipline.

He reaches her door and smiles to himself, entering her room he finds her sitting on the edge of her bed. Legs dangling, head hanging, shoulders tight, her hands grip the edge of the bed with such strength her knuckles are white. It appears he has arrived at the right moment. 

She raises her head and takes him in, he is clearly not a doctor or nurse. Dirty blonde hair, black commando uniform, gold chain, throat tattoo. “Hey, Baby” he addresses her and she flinches at the pet name, the casual manner at which he engages her. She stares into his clear blue eyes a little shocked. He takes note of her reaction, he will go a little slower, this one is still needs to be educated.

Taking the metal chair from the corner of the room, he strolls towards her and places it directly in front of her, sitting down casually, legs crossed hands in his lap. She draws her knees up to her chest, looking at him over the protective barrier they create. Then she sees it, how could she not have noticed it before. His metallic hand, she was too distracted by his face, his imposing build, his energy.

He notices her gaze and furrowed brow. Raising his metallic hand he gives her a little wave, bringing his hand to his face and capturing her eyes once more. “Hi there” his voice controlled and less playful then before. He smiles sweetly though, exposes his gold tooth and tilting his head slightly to read her better. “I’m Pierce,” he says slowly as if they speak a different language. “Donald Pierce, some call me Donald, Mr Pierce, Sir, Don, the devil, it’s really up to you.” He shrugs, head still tilted eyes still fixed on hers. Her brow is still furrowed but a tiny smirk betrays her resolve.

She is confused by his casual tone, his playful bedside manner, completely different from how others have interacted with her. “I’m here to answer all them burning questions I’m sure ya have.” She stays silent but nods her head to show she understands him.

He straightens up again, raising a single metallic finger “But, before we start. I will advise, that honesty will be rewarded with honesty.” He leans forward for emphasis nothing playful in his words this time. Her posture straightens, muscles tight once more.

She contemplates her position, she still needs answers and he is the only one offering. She cannot sit idle in this room anymore. Slowly releasing her knees as a sign of trust, her legs dangle over the edge of the bed again, knees together, back straight, hands in her lap. He sits back in his chair, mimicking her posture as a sign of agreement and understanding.

She avoids his eyes as best she can as she decides on the best way to handle this man. She does not know his position, clearly he has authority, but how much? How much power does he wield over her? He is patient and still controlling the energy around them, he is waiting for her to speak. He clears his throat and she looks in his eyes again, cursing herself as soon as she did, then she finally speaks.

“How long have I been here?” A simple one to start, her tone flat and business like. “16 days” is his reply, she gasps a little, taken back by his response. She would never had guessed she had been away from the world that long. “Why has no one come to visit me? My family?” more emotion in her voice now. This however is a dangerous dance, more dangerous then she realizes. What does he already know about her? How much has he already learned? How deep did he dig?

He clears his throat once more, and gives her a disappointed glace, she already knows a mistake has been made. He had hoped, she would not need to be taught, that she would have worked things out by instinct, use that little thing hiding inside her. Perhaps it is truly dormant?

He captures her eyes for a third time, his baby blues, her brown. “Your father died when you were young, a work accident. Your mother past five years ago from cancer, just before ya finished college.” He paused, taking in her reaction, she swallowed, she now knows for a fact she has been caught in a lie, caught trying to test him. 

He continued “You inherited a small mount allowing you to set yourself up. Your brother, who is two years older lives far far away in Scotland with his wife and small boys” he glared at her with raised eye brows, waiting for her to make her move.

She closes her eyes and hangs her head once more. He took some pride in her little act of submission, he knows so much more then she had hoped. Clearly this is something bigger than just her, she is now a piece of a puzzle, things that she has kept contained inside her have been discovered.

He leans in, and tilts his head again to look at her face, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She refuses to acknowledge his closer presence. “I think” he states, throwing his arm in the air, stretching and reclining back in his chair. “That ya isolated yourself on purpose, instinct, an involuntary act, a survival mechanism.” She still refuses to look at him, instead focusing on the ground, the reality of her position becoming evident.

“Will I ever leave this place?” she quietly asks him as he rocks his chair back and forward. “Obedience will always be rewarded” he replies. That got her attention, her posture changed from submission to aggression. “Obedience?” now it’s her turn to raise her eyebrows. “And who am I to obey? You?” she laughed.

Before she has time to register, he has sprung from his chair. She tries to crawl back into the bed startled by the sudden noise of the chair hitting the cement floor, caused by the force of his sudden movements. She does not make it far as he looms over her, his breath the only part of him touching her as he snarls in her ear “Yes.” 

As suddenly as he was there, he is gone again, she is paralysed with fear. The severity of her situation suddenly clear. She is alone, vulnerable and at the mercy of those that know of the treasure buried deep inside her.


	3. Part III

She primal screamed, it was unavoidable. The latest of Dr. Rice’s serums injected into her spinal fluid at the base of her neck. Face down on the table she is desperate for something to claw at as sparks of electricity shoot up and down her spine and into her brain as the chemicals dance with her DNA, enhancing and augmenting.

Momentarily she shuts down, her body re calibrating, before it awakens in a flurry of surround sound technicolor. The restraints are removed and she vomits over the side of the table, heart racing, EEG dangerously high. An alarm sounds, she can hear people moving, see herself in their minds as they evacuate the room, she is unrecognizable, a crude sight.

Dr. Rice is giving final orders, removing his expensive equipment from her body. He strokes her head and she enters his mind unwillingly, his touch causing the connection. He is concerned but will not interfere any longer, he has pushed her too far, the concoction was too powerful. She sees her body convulsing through his eyes, then he is gone.

She feels the hands of another, one metal, one flesh. It’s his job to stay behind, to control all threats. She is currently unpredictable, she is currently his responsibility. Quickly he removes his large coat, biceps exposed under his short sleeved black shirt. He gathers her vibrating body into his capable arms, unaffected by the chaos that has just occurred around them. It is his way, the calm within a storm, it’s what he excels at, demanding control.

She wraps her arms around his neck, her head buried into him. He carries her into an adjoining room, it is dark and cool. A tub awaits her, it has been prepared just for her. It so simple, water. Water not chemicals is the thing that pacifies her, allows her to regain control. For weeks they have done this, she endues Dr. Rice and his combinations of chemicals. Results have varied.

He sits her fully clothed in the tub but she is clinging to him so tight. His scent and body familiar as he allows her the reprieve. She is still shaking uncontrollably, unable to communicate with words. He kneels beside her, still allowing her to hold him. She shows him her gratitude with her mind, implanting images of her thanks, for granting her this mercy before it was too late, before she loses all composure and modesty.

He pulls her arms from his neck, a little more aggressive than required. He is put off put by her intrusion and she sees his disgust in her mind, she lets him go. Her breathing is still erratic, she is trying to stop her mind from reaching beyond the boundaries she is allowed, so she slips under the water, allowing it to purify her mind and body from the latest unnatural attack.

Almost 5 months she has been here in this place. At first the test were simple, not intrusive, once Dr. Rice had a baseline for her abilities he started with the next stage. The chemical compounds, sometimes they would be too much, her body and brain shutting down. Her body going into shock, placed in an induced coma while it recovered, other days not strong enough, days of isolation would follow, no need for her as the next mixture was created.

Her mutation could have been easily disregarded, written off. There are many that can do as she does, meditation and dedication is all it would take. But her, she is a natural, she is a pure, made of it, it’s written in her code, ready to be manipulated and harvested to Dr. Rice’s pleasing. Precognitive Telepath that’s what they call her.

She had qualified as a resident, her compliance and uniqueness deeming her a reliable asset, a durable investment. She was moved from her small cell like room to a more hospitable one, still stark and bare but with the potential to make it personal. Double bed, private bathroom, an empty shelf and desk. Both these things slowly filled with books and writing supplies as rewards were earned as the months passed.

Her greatest privilege or torture was that her room had a window, teasing her, allowing her to see the world but not touch it. She was not sure what she had done to deserve such treatment to be tested in such a way. He, Don she calls him, was disappointed when she did not jump for joy, or thank him endlessly. Her cold expression as she looked into his face angered him, her eyes full of tears as she looked up into his. He looked down at her like a disappointed parent, like he did not know how to satisfy his child so he left the room with fury. She read him as he stormed through the hall, he had made himself vulnerable, shown a weakness and she had been ungrateful.

She would sit by that window and stare, escape into old memories or sneak into those that came to tend to her. Quietly she was testing her new amplified strength, studying and researching, this place, its location, its layout, its inner workings. She was learning about the monster she resided in. Sometimes she would dream with her eyes open, lost and unreachable. Was it a fantasy or the future she was seeing?

She was allowed time in the common room, a place where others in the green zone would gather in silence, play games, read, watch old movies or sporting games but nothing to insight too much emotion. They would walk like shadows up and down the corridors knowing any little step out of place would mean the end of such a great privilege. 

She had been dozing on one of the large lounge chairs in the common room, wrapped in a blanket with her feet and ankles exposed. An old baseball game running on the screen built into the wall, all the others had gone back to their rooms. She sensed him before she heard his heavy boots, the sound of his heavy jacket shifting as he walked, even in her half-conscious state his energy consumed her, black hole that he was.

Technically she was not supposed to be there, but after the trials of the last few days she was given some liberties. He sat himself down next to her in the last remaining space on the lounge, arm stretched over the back above her. She made no effort to move, to make space for his expansive build. “You like baseball?” he asked casually, eyes on the game, sipping his coffee. “No. Not at all.” She replied with a lethargic voice, she saw a flash in his mind of him rising, changing the station. “Please don’t!” She said, a plea in her voice as she sat up and put her hand on his arm above her. Turning his head he looked at her with an inquisitive eye. “I ain’t done nothin yet.” They held each other’s eyes before she asked with her mind, “Please don’t change it.” He raised his eyebrows as she lay back down, to tired to play his little games and it’s hard to talk to him when he looks at her with such intimacy. “I like to hear the crowd,” She sighed “I can feel the heat, smell the sweat, taste the beer and hotdogs.” She was starting at the screen again. “mmhmm” he responded taking another gulp of coffee.

In a strange comfortable silence they sat. He had become a part of her life, a part of her routine. Medical staff came and went, Dr. Rice was only present for major procedures, but him, he was always around.

Suddenly he grabbed her ankle, holding tighter than necessary, he is making a point as he felt her calf muscles contract. “I can feel ya poking round in there.” He said in an unaffected tone but making his feelings known, her breathing became deeper, waiting for his retaliation. “Tell me what ya lookin for.” He said as he released some of the strength in his hand. She allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts, they had been in each other’s company countless times before, often at her most vulnerable, but this was something different. 

She knew her mistake, she did not ask permission, an unsolicited endeavor. “You know so much about me.” She said tentatively, licking her dry lips as nerves started to build. “I know so little about you.” The crowd roared on the screen, neither of them took their eyes off it. His thumb began to draw circles just above her ankle and he sat a little deeper in the chair. Taking his final gulp of coffee he placed the mug on the ground beside him. Pulling her naked feet into his lap he rested his head on the back of the lounge. “Go on then.” Was all he said as his hands, one flesh, one metal began to massage her feet.

She couldn’t help but fall into the feeling of him, those hands that can create such horror and such simple pleasures. She wondered what would happen if someone found them, how fast word would spread between the staff and others, it would only add to the talk of her favored treatment.

She allowed herself to fall deeper, become apart of the moment and then slipped into his world. Flashes from his youth, an abusive father, absent mother, college, the good looking engineering prodigy, the military and then this place. She found a memory of him as a child, sent to a relatives for the summer, he was happy, so she stayed, falling asleep in his mind and being a part of him for a while.


	4. Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally to be the final one but followers on tumblr demanded more. My original concept was for the story to be a circle but one more chapter will follow.

He stormed through the corridors, his black fatigues and bomber jacket covered in dust and blood. He, Donald Pierce, Don, had been gone almost three weeks on the road. He was exhausted, mentally and physically drained, he wanted a hot shower and a decent meal.

After signing over his latest acquisition he asked on her, concerned about the reports he had been receiving. He made his way to Dr. Rice, despondent was the word he kept hearing, despondent but not disobedient.

He found Dr. Rice, his partner in crime and was given the full report. She had become withdrawn since he had been gone, obedient as always, compliant but hollow. She would spend all day in bed, refuse food or company, even the nurses she had come to bond with could not rouse her. She was being nourished intravenously, but it was as if she was simply not there. Dr. Rice had changed her, her mutation became one of his greatest successes, nature perfected by man and science.

As her body lay in bed, she was escaping with her mind, traveling beyond the walls of this place. Creating a life for herself she may never physically touch, it’s all she can do from going mad. Nine months is too long to be confined.

Dr. Rice and Don fought often, fought about her. Don wanted her on the road, she would be invaluable, see the danger coming, formulate strategies, save time and man power. Save the lives of his men and the unnecessary damaged inflicted on the assets they hunted. She would be a great addition to the Reavers.

Dr. Rice disagreed, she was to stay home where she could be monitored. The outside world was no place for her, she was powerful but also fragile and he liked to be the one pulling her strings. There were too many unknown variables out there, it was uncharted how she would respond to the stimulation of the outside, here she was medicated for the surroundings, out there too many things could cause instability.

Don made it to her door, she had sensed him in the building hours before. She knew he would come to her eventually, he knocked gently as any southern gentleman would, opening the it respectfully, the light from the corridor cast a dreamy glow over her. He took in the sight of her, long dark hair against the white pillow and sheets. Covers pulled high around her, back towards him. He knew she was not sleeping.

Closing the door behind him, he locked it and the room darkened again. He walked around the bed, dusting himself off as best he could. Taking off his jacket he lay it on the desk and switched on the small lap beside her. “I know you aint sleepin.” He remarked as he crouched down to her level pulling she covers from her face.

Her brown eyes were open and automatically found his. He could not help but smile, his gold tooth caught by the light. She returned his smile with one of her own. “I hear you aint been takin care of yourself.” He said in a frustrated tone. Raising his eyebrows and running his finger down her exposed cheek. “That disappoints me.”

She pulled her hand out from under the covers, reaching him she traced her finger around his throat tattoo before taking his hand and tucking it against her chest. The action forced him to lean forward, he shook his head a little. “I’m all dirty Baby.” He said knowing what she wanted. “I know.” She replied with her mind, little smirk on her face, looking at him though her lashes. He sighed and bowed his head resting it on the side of the bed, she reach out with her hand again running it though his filthy hair. “You don’t make this easy for me.” He mumbled into the sheets.

He stood up as far as he could without her having to release his hand from her chest. In one clean motion he climbed over her, his right leg draped over her body. He pulled her to him, his large solid frame enveloped her and she became immersed in him. His sore muscles and mind relaxing for the first time in weeks as he drifted off to sleep.

They had broken countless protocols over time. No employee are to engage in any activity that could be considered sexual in nature with an asset. Any employee found to be compromising company property will be charged with breach of contract and legal action will be taken by the company to recover lost revenue. For them of course it was different, Donald Pierce, the gate keeper of this kingdom, she not the damsel in distress, more the willing mistress. 

Dr. Rice turned his eye, aware of the situation, he saw nothing but opportunity. This connection they had made in the most unlikely of places, simply environmental or something more? It did not matter to him, it was just another piece of her to exploit if the need should arise.

For Don it was uncharted territory, this woman, the mutant. He was not an unfeeling man, pride, persistence, determination these things came naturally to him, but what he found in himself when he was with her, was something more, something he had long forgotten.

It was something that required discipline, patience, a strategy. He was those things too, they just currently required a little more attention. This new revelation did not alarm him, he enjoyed a challenge, something new to conquer and adept he was.

Don was going to be sent away again, she knew it. As she sat in the common room she saw something more, he will be gone longer than anticipated. Five whole weeks she estimated. He will be gone too long for her, she has come to need him in this place. Need his calm command, he keeps her balanced, keeps her on this plain.

She is standing in her room looking out her window, the almost full moon and lights from the car park below casting an ambient light into her room. Standing in her doorway he takes a moment and then locks the door behind him. She knows he is there to say goodbye, he leaves at dawn.

Walking around the bed he removes his long dust jacket before sitting on the edge of the bed. She turns to face him, illuminated by the light behind her and she is a sight to behold. She walks over to him, her bare feet on the cool floor, walking into his open legs. Running her finger along the top of his thigh as he wraps his arms around her, his hands find their way inside her shirt and draws circles around the small of her back. She smiles and shivers at the sensation as goosebumps appear on her exposed flesh.

Placing his head in her hands her fingers playing with the scruff on his face. He turns his head into her hands, encouraging her, coaxing her to be rougher. Lifting her knee she slides it down beside him as he takes the other pulling her into his lap. “You are going away again.” She sighs, eyes down, afraid to meet his, her hands running up and down his muscular shoulders. “Yeah.” He replies, his voice wavering, something building inside him, an urgency is growing.

“Will you ever take me with you?” she whispers as she buries her face in his neck holding him tight. He groans a little as her movement forward grinds into him. “You know it aint just up to me.” He replies holding her tight against his chest, his face inhaling her hair. His hands creep higher up inside her shirt, “And to be honest,” he continued “I like ya here, staying put where I know exactly where you are.” She sighed into his neck again before pulling away, she looked into his clear blue eyes, running her thumb over his lips. She knew this was true, he didn’t want her out there outside.

It did not change the truth of his feelings for her, but the honesty of his words meant everything. “I’m a selfish man, I don’t want to share ya with the world.” She pulled his forehead to hers, slightly arching her back and allowing herself to grind deeper into his lap. He groaned louder as his mouth reached for hers, she pulled back further again staring deeper into his eyes. “Honesty will always be rewarded with honesty.” She replied, before she surrendered to him, allowing his warm hungry mouth to devour hers, allowing him to use her to alleviate his need.

He had been gone six days already as she paced up and down the corridor. His absence already making her restless. No one really watched her anymore, she was considered trained, broken in, the reliable pet that would not stray. She had never even considered it, not until it was presented to her, a literal open door, a door that should be closed. Why had she not seen it in her mind before this moment she was not sure but without thinking she walked through.

She closed the door behind her, a stairwell. Her instinct kicked in, this is what she was for. She walked down the stairs flight after flight, her feet on the freezing concrete and avoiding the cameras each time they turned. She was determined and sure as she reached out to those around her, reading their minds sensing if they were coming near her. She had to stop a few times, back flat against the wall as staff walked above and below her moving between floors. She always remained unseen, Don was right, she would have been invaluable to him on the hunt.

Down she went until she could not go any further, with an exit sign above it a large metal door and keypad was her last barrier. She waited out of sight of the camera, waited for her moment. A distracted nurse opened the door from the outside and she slipped out the door before the young nurse turned to make sure it was locked again, she was out.

For the first time in 12 months she was free, breathing fresh air, the beating sun and the smells of a bustling city, she was overwhelmed with emotions, joy, adrenaline and guilt pumping through her veins. Silently she found herself weeping as she shielded her eyes from the harsh light of the midday sun. Her skin pale untouched for so long felt like it was already burning, her bare feet starting to dance on the hot ground. She had been wrapped in cotton wool for so long, pampered, she would have to learn to take care of herself again.

She found refuge where she could, relying on the kindness of strangers. Reading the people around her, she found those with warm intentions, those that would not ask questions, if asked who she was or where she came from she simply said she did not remember. Finding her way to a woman’s shelter she stayed there a number of weeks. They bathed her, clothed her, and fed her and she helped out as much as she could to thank them for their generosity though she was easily fatigued from the heat and the fact she had been waited on for so long.

He was always on her mind, she tried to find him in the crowd of millions but it was too loud, too chaotic, she was easily overwhelmed and tried too quickly. Dr. Rice’s medicines where starting to fade away, leaving her with only her will to keep the world at a distance. She wanted him, Don but now feared him too. His wrath for her betrayal far more terrifying then anything Dr. Rice could conjure. He had shown her his weakness, made himself bare for her and she had thrown it away.

What she really needed was to cross the border, to get back into the United States and she was not the only one at the shelter looking for a new life. A group of them were waiting, waiting for the right time to cross. She used her mutation to find the best location, know when it would be unguarded and know when help would be waiting on the other side, when the night finally came they took those brave steps together without looking back.

It was this emotionally charged act that caused her symptoms to first present themselves. The pounding headache that lasted for hours, the blinding pain behind her eyes. She decided to separate from the group, hoping that some solitude would help her recover. She was given a little money, dropped off in a small town and wished well and now she was on her own.

She walked the main streets, hoping a local business was in need of a worker, the dinner needed someone for the midnight shift. They did not care she was inexperienced, she was willing to learn. They allowed her to sleep in the converted studio apartment connected above until she got herself settled. The elderly couple that owned it said she reminded them of their daughter, they had a weakness for lost souls, had generous hearts. A week turned into two, turned into four as she worked as hard as her body would allow, though her constant need for breaks was becoming an issue.

Her body was starting to rebel against her, not follow her commands. Her legs would collapse under her, stabbing pains in her chest, her head filled with heat and noise so intense she was sure it would burst. She knew she would have to get away, get away from these kind people not tie them up in what she was, who she belonged to.

Donald was on the warpath, his contempt for himself and those under his control on display for all to see. He had given too much and then she had taken some more, he should have known better then to play with one of them. He let his anger drive him, get him though the months she was gone. Throwing blame at anyone and anything he could for her leaving, for leaving him. He had come to assume her complicity, assumed she would always need.

She assembled the small amount of belongings she had started to collect and purchased a disposable phone, borrowing her kindly employee’s car, promising it would stay in one piece. Then she started to drive, drive to the middle of nowhere, drive where he could find her with ease. She tried to reach out to him but she was too weak, using all her strength to stay together, to stay a part of this world. She constantly took note of her surroundings, every landmark, and every sign. Then she saw it, a rundown motel, she knew this was the place, this was the place he would come to her, come to take her back home.


	5. Part V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the epilogue to the story. I fear it feels a little detached from the rest of the story but hopefully not too disappointing for the romantics out there.

When he came to her it was late, one of his bomber jackets in hand and he did not need to make a sound for her to know he was there. They had not spoken in weeks. He was a man with a decisive nature and she caused him to hesitate, to question his own ways. 

She sat up in bed trying to shake the dreamy state she had just been in and she was not disrespectful enough to read him, she would give him a chance to speak his mind first. “What wrong?” She asked rubbing her eyes, taking in his unusually nerves energy. “Nothin.” He said as he sat down beside her, “I’m takin you outta here.” She was stunned by his words and suddenly very alert, He had her attention. “Why?” she said more sharply than she intended. He reached for her causing her anxiety suddenly peak and she leaned away from him. 

He could see her struggle, her stress rising and he took her hands in his, gently helping her release her grip on the covers she was holding. “Dr Rice and I have come to an agreement.” She was physically shaking, too many emotions were running through her, joy, guilt, confusion. “What does that mean?” she asked him. her eyes wide, fighting the urge to read him, see what he had done. What deal had he made, what deal had he made with her life?

He pulled back the covers from her, took her knees and turned her body, legs hanging over the side of the bed. Taking the extra jacket he had brought, he placed it around her shoulders, ran his hands down the sides of her face as she slipped her arms into the sleeves, the cuffs hanging down below her still shaky hands. It smelled of him and as she stood the jacket swallowed her as, falling and hanging around her thighs. Putting on the simple tennis shoes she had been provided, she looked up into his eyes and he smiled back down at her. “Is this really happening?” she asked him with whisper, afraid to say it out loud for fear it would somehow disappear. “Yeah baby.” He replied pulling her to his chest, his large, steady hands holding her head against his heart.

It had not been long since she returned, since she had made that call from a dilapidated motel room in the middle of nowhere. Almost three months she had been gone, gone from him. She had literally walked out the door. It took almost three months for her to accept the reality of what she was. A woman, a woman whose life she created for herself had been stolen. A woman whom nature or destiny decided to gift with a mutation. A mutation that had been studied, altered and heighten to such extremes her physical body could no longer contain it. She was now shackled to this place, to Dr Rice and his medicines. She could not bridle herself without them and her greatest fear was to hurt an innocent, the guilt of such a thing she could not bear.

Dr Rice was so pleased to have her back, he is a business man after all, he was pleased to know he would still get returns on his investment. She was placed in an induced coma, allowing her body and mind time to heal, time for the potions to work their magic, time for a little more investigation into how she operated. A tracking device placed in her back for good measure.

Once she awoke Donald was seething, he wanted to hold her and strangle her, possess her and bury her, he kept her close and at distance, his silence spoke volumes. He was being rocked by the storm inside him, fighting his beliefs and her, his overwhelming desire for her, to care for her. He was tortured by his instincts, to protect or punish? 

He drove to a manicured part of the city, not far from the facility. A sleek, high rise surrounded by green trees and open park land. They went almost to the top of the building, she stood in the elevator, arms crossed, back against the wall, staring at the patterns in the carpeted floor. He was watching her, an eagerness, excitement in his eyes. When the doors opened, she didn’t move, waiting for permission had been programed into her. He walked up to her, his gentle approach causing her to drop her aggressive stance. He took her hand in his and walked her out the elevator door into his apartment.

It was cool, grey with white trims. Minimal sleek furniture filled the expansive space, a wall of glass sliding doors lead out onto a balcony. The city lights putting on a romantic display. He let go of her hand as she slowly explored the unfamiliar scene, running her hands over his possessions, taking in their energy while he shook off his jacket and hung it in a hidden closet. Watching her in his space, his personal space stirred something inside him. “This is where you live?” she asked not looking at him distracted by the reflection in the windows.

He walked up behind her, slid his jacket off her upper body before running his hands down her neck, her shoulders. “Yeah.” He said before placing kisses where his hands had just been. “Who pays for all this?” she asked looking past their reflection and out to the city beyond. “I do.” He said in her ear as his hands started to wander. “Really?” she said “Just you?” His affection halted as he stood to his full height behind her, the edges of his substantial build clearly seen around her, he was displeased, she didn’t care.

His hands found their way back to her neck, massaging harder then he should. She looked into his eyes through the reflection of the window, he was trying to maintain personal discipline, things were not going as he planned. She held her ground not flinching as he attempted to exert a little physical control over the situation arising.

“Am I to stay here?” she asked. “If you like.” He responded, his tension dissipating a little. “Can I leave the apartment?” she asked him, her eyes still on his. “Sure.” He replied. “The building?” she asked next, he shook his head a little, “Not without a chaperone baby. Your company property and my liability.” “I see.” She said her tone was devoid of emotion as she walked out of his grip. He allowed it, curious by her reaction.

She walked around the apartment some more, peeked into the shiny chrome kitchen. Found the large master bedroom with a wall made of glass all of its own. His extra-large bed in an almost bare room. She turned to face him and leaned on the frame of the bedroom door, arms folded once more. “What am I to do here?” she asked, he did not appreciate the hint of sarcasm in her tone. 

He raised his eyebrows at her and tilted his head slightly, an animal suddenly cornered. He questioned her with his eyes and she responded. “Shall I cook for you? Clean for you? Wash the blood out of your shirts for you? His face turned to thunder as he slowly stalked towards her, she backed up into the bedroom, trying to avoid his reach. “What. Do. You. Want?” he asked her calmly, calculated, as he continued his advance on her. He was trying to curb his instincts. Was this not a good compromise?. “I can tell you what I don’t want.” She said as her legs hit the bed.

He started pacing, running his hands through his hair and beard, doing all that he could to alleviate his rising nature, to subdue his agitation. “Go on.” He said with a forced smile and gesture with his hand. She sighed closing her eyes, rubbing her palms into them to stifle the building pressure. “I can’t do this Don. I can’t live here. I can’t live here in your castle built on blood and suffering.”

He stopped and stared at her again, his jaw clenched, breathing haggard as his chest rose and fell. She shook her head at him and gave a little smile. “This is ridiculous.” She exclaimed to no one, before sitting, slumped on the side of the bed, with her head in her hands she said to him, “You will never truly tolerate what I am, and I will never reconcile the things that you do.” The honesty of her words rattled him, calmed the beast within him, he walked over to her, ashamed of his sudden reaction, he did not intend to scare her. 

He crouched down in front of her, taking her hands in one of his, forcing her to reveal her face. He saw her silent tears, wiped them from her cheek. “Tell me what ya want baby.” He tenderly asked her. She attempted to move her hands from his grip, wanting to hide her face again but he held her fast. “Tell me.” He said again leaning down to look into her eyes. She stared at a point beyond him, not wanting to meet his eyes as hers filled again. “I want you to take me back.” 

The virtue of this moment was too much for her, purity in such opposition to what they were, two people trying to interpret their lives, the choices they had made and the choices taken from them. Trying a regain some control and yet still give to another, trying to make the most of what they were given.

He took her by surprised when he kissed her, taking her face forcefully in his hands and kissed her. He kissed her hard and greedily, a man on death row having his last meal. She leaned back onto the bed, over taken by his sudden passion. He knelt over her before pulling her up into the middle of the bed, then crawled up her body again. She watched him as he knelt over her once more, he was waiting for a sign to stop, a sign of protest, she gave him none. 

His mouth found hers again as his hands tenderly searched for the hem of her shirt and finding their way underneath it. She moan and shivered at the sensation, pulling on his hair. The contradiction of metal and flesh climbing up her torso evoking an excitement from her.

She was torn by his actions, why he had demanded honesty and not given it in return, he had broken his own rules. Honesty will always be rewarded with honesty. 

He removed his hands from her under her shirt and took one of her wrists in each of his hands, holding them down by the side of her head. He placed his forehead on hers, his chest on hers, his groin on hers. He put his whole weight on her as their breath become one, showing her his full strength but also his restraint. “Give me this night.” He requested, a plea, a need, before he released her again and placed delicate kisses on her mouth once more. 

It was then that she understood, he had already shown it. This was his honesty as selfish as it was. He wanted her here with him. To wake beside her, to come home to her, to know where she was. He wanted to relinquish some control, he wanted to be taken care of, by her.

He sat up and pulled her with him, sitting her in his open lap, her feet meeting at his back. He pulled her shirt over her head, her hair falling around her chest and back. She removed his in turn, placed her hand over his beating heart before fixing kisses over his toned chest. She looked up at him through her lashes. “One night.” was the last thing she said. 

Now she understood him, understood what he wanted, what he really needed. He had shared it in his own way, she did not have to hunt for it inside of him, but she was not the one to do it, give him what he wanted, give him what he needed. 

The next day he took her back, walked her to her room. He did not pass the threshold and he never did again. There they stood like oil and water. They had been thrown together, took what they needed, emulsified. Now they were starting to separate, disconnect, become individual once more.

One evening moments before sleep she saw it. Dr Rice will have a break through and then a break out. Nurses and children running, escaping, fighting back. This she saw would be the beginning of the end for this place and ultimately, his demise.


End file.
